


Sharp and Glorious Thorn

by savethebees



Series: Sharp and Glorious Thorn [1]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Hanahaki Disease, M/M, Pining, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-09
Updated: 2020-02-09
Packaged: 2021-02-01 03:42:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 21,176
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21361930
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/savethebees/pseuds/savethebees
Summary: No one had ever sacrificed themselves for Hanzo.He stared in wonder at the man who laid on the floor in front of him, freshly bandaged from a bullet wound that had been meant for him, surrounded by the warm, healing glow of whatever nano-technology came stocked with the ship. McCree looked peaceful. He looked almost angelic.As soon as he had that thought, he felt his chest constrict as a cough made its way up his throat.And when he pulled his hand away, he found a single, blood-red rose petal laying delicately in his palm.
Relationships: Jesse McCree/Hanzo Shimada
Series: Sharp and Glorious Thorn [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1584025
Comments: 56
Kudos: 421





	1. Prologue

When Genji finally convinced Hanzo to join Overwatch, Hanzo knew what he was in for. He was in for dirty stares from people who knew what he had done, and wary looks from people who had heard the stories. He would be going in completely alone, but that was nothing different from how he had been living for the past decade. Genji had reassured him that all was forgiven and that he would at least be by his side, but Hanzo knew he couldn’t trust that. Not that he couldn’t trust Genji, but he couldn’t trust himself to accept any kind of forgiveness shown to him or feel at ease knowing he was stealing time Genji could spend with people who _hadn’t_ tried to kill him.

Still, the hostility he faced made him feel like the redemption he thought he had been working so hard toward had been reset and that he had to start over. At the same time, being visibly hated by someone who wasn’t himself served as a nice benchmark for how far he would have to go to achieve his desired redemption.

It was just a matter of convincing everyone he deserved it. Most of all, himself.

As soon as he was able, he volunteered for as many missions as he could. He had to start out with small ones, accompanying Genji in almost all of them, in order to prove he was trustworthy; but once he had, he worked as hard as he could to prove he was a powerful asset. He knew that if he could show he was useful, the sting of the past could possibly be replaced with the good he was doing in the present.

On his downtime, he kept to himself as much as he could, wanting to be as little of a burden as possible. He only took up as much space as he needed, only ate what was offered to him, and only left his room when absolutely necessary. The way he saw it, if he was more of a ghost than a guest, he would be harder to hate.

To his credit, it mostly worked. Many agents stopped regarding him with distain and more just started to ignore him. Once he had proven his skills with the bow, some agents even began to request his presence on missions. A rare few offered small talk in the dropship, to which he responded, grateful for a conversation that didn’t start with a guilt trip. He had never been the best conversational partner, but he tried.

By the end of his first year, he had managed to have a neutral interaction with everyone on the base, including the cowboy.

Jesse McCree had made his intentions very clear from the moment Hanzo had stepped onto Gibraltar. He had cornered Hanzo and made sure to remind him of how he saw, first-hand, what he had done to his brother and how it had destroyed him in every way and how if Hanzo even _thought_ about betraying them or jeopardizing a mission, he wouldn’t hesitate to put a bullet between his eyes.

“If you’re lookin’ for forgiveness or somethin’, you ain’t gonna find it here,” he had practically spat before turning away, leaving Hanzo to stare after him with a well-practiced passive gaze.

From then on, McCree had always been the most critical of Hanzo and the most open with his hatred. The first couple of missions they went on together, McCree had chewed him out for every little thing until Hanzo had no choice but to snap back, only making things worse.

It didn’t help that, because he was his brother’s best friend, every time Genji invited Hanzo to accompany him somewhere, McCree was usually in tow. Hanzo had always figured it was Genji’s not-so-subtle way of attempting to bridge the gap between the two.

In a way, it worked.

In Hanzo’s imagination, when McCree finally warmed up to him enough to not scowl at his very presence, he would show it a way akin to a simple nod of acknowledgement when Hanzo made a good shot. The reality, however, had been so much better.

Genji had invited the two to his room for drinks on one of the rare days all three of them were on base. As per usual, Hanzo left most of the talking to McCree and his brother, opting to simply drink instead. Most of his attempts to speak were usually met with a sarcastic remark from McCree, so he usually just kept quiet.

However, the alcohol made his tongue become looser as the night wore on and at one point, one glorious moment, he had dared to make a joke at one of Genji’s comments. The delivery was flat and monotone, and there was a beat as the other two occupants took a moment to realize he had even spoke, and then, McCree _laughed_. Hanzo did not even remember the joke he had said that night, but he would never forget the warm, deep laugh that _he_ drew from the cowboy. He still thought about it sometimes.

Since that night, McCree must have come to the conclusion that maybe Hanzo wasn’t all that bad. He stopped throwing his more intense insults, leaning more toward teasing as time went on. He still didn’t _like_ Hanzo, and he still let him know this, but he didn’t antagonize him as much, which was something Hanzo counted as a victory.

Perhaps it was that same night when the seeds of illness had first settled into his lungs, lying in wait.

-

Several months later found Hanzo on a mission in Ilios. Overwatch had caught intel on some Talon activity in the area and sent a small squad to intercept them. Hanzo, of course, was in his usual position: as high as he could get while still maintaining some semblance of cover.

He watched the surrounding area for any signs of movement. When he found none, he nocked a sonic arrow and fired it at a building he couldn’t see behind. Sure enough, red outlines of Talon soldiers appeared, crouching just out of sight.

Hanzo frowned and activated his coms. “I have visual. There are five in the building on the northeast side of the square. They are armed.”

“Roger!” Came Lena’s cheery voice. “Only 5? I thought there would be more. I can take them all out in a jiffy with a pulse bomb.”

Hanzo hummed. “Something is wrong.”

“I hate to say it, but I agree with Shimada,” Lucio said. “This has to be a trap, right?”

“Just keep your eyes peeled, archer.” McCree’s voice was low. He was the closest one to the building and was trying not to give away his position. Hanzo could see him from where he was perched and tried not to think of the irony of the cowboy in _spurs_ being the stealthy one.

“Should I call my MEKA now?” D.Va whispered, even though she was far from the action.

“No, stay put and don’t draw attention to yourself until we figure this out. Got it?”

Everyone sounded out affirmations.

“Good. Now,” McCree continued. “I’m gonna enter through the south door. Shimada, you keep an arrow trained on the other exit in case they try to make a run for it. Tracer, Lucio, D.Va, stay hidden until things break bad, which I have a mighty strong feelin’ they will.”

“You are going to take them on alone?” Hanzo knew he shouldn’t question their team leader, and he knew McCree could easily take on 5 targets, but in such an enclosed area where it was obviously a trap? It didn’t seem like a good idea.

“Yes, don’t question me, Shimada,” McCree shot back with no small amount of annoyance. “Just stay your position. On my mark.”

Hanzo bit his tongue and raised his bow, aiming at the entrance he was told to guard as he watched McCree head toward the building.

McCree seemed to fiddle with something on his belt, then, in a practiced motion, he kicked open the door, threw a flash bang, and before Hanzo could even process what was happening, he heard five gun shots followed by complete silence.

He was about to relax his bow when he heard gunfire coming from where the others were supposed to be stationed and Lena’s voice crackling over the coms. “McCree! It was an ambush! We need backup! Now!”

Cursing to himself, he stood up from where he was crouched, intending on moving his position so he would have sights on whoever was attacking the others, when a bullet whizzed by his arm, barely missing him and imbedding itself in the stone wall behind him. He immediately tucked and rolled, moving behind the nearest pillar.

“Shimada! Get the hell over here! We need cover fire,” McCree barked in his ear.

“Working on it.” He sent a scatter arrow in the general direction of where the bullet had come from and hoped he hit the sniper before trying to move again. He must have hit his assailant because he did not have to dodge any more bullets as he ran across the rooftops to where he knew Lena and the others were stationed.

They were effectively surrounded. Every time he took a Talon soldier down, another was there to replace them.

“Where do they keep coming from?” D.Va’s voice was slightly strained and very worried.

Hanzo heard McCree grunt and give a frustrated growl before giving the command to retreat. But even then, Hanzo could tell not all of them would make it. There were too many. They were closing in too fast.

After what felt like several grueling hours, their team managed to get within range of their ship. Lena had been able to zip on and start the engines while the rest tried to stagger closer and closer.

They were slowly getting cornered. So close, but if they dared to break ranks in an attempt to run to safety, they would surely be gunned down.

“Come on!” Lena urged.

When D.Va’s mech finally fell apart from taking too many hits and D.Va herself was exposed to the onslaught with no armor, Hanzo reached behind himself and found he only had one arrow left. Trying not to panic, he assessed their situation. Most of the soldiers were in front of them, all clustered. It was then that he knew what he needed to do.

“Head for the ship. I will take the rest.”

“Hey. I call the shots ‘round here. There’s no way we’ll make it if we turn our backs on them.”

“Trust me.”

“And why the hell should I do that?”

Hanzo jumped down to be in the front of their little group and nocked his last arrow. He knew they had no reason to trust him, but there was no way they’d make it out if they didn’t. “Just trust me. Head for the ship.”

He didn’t wait to see if McCree had another snarky comment or if he even headed toward the ship. He focused his energy and felt his dragons waking up.

“Ryuu ga waga teki wo kurau!”

Twin dragons made entirely of blue energy erupted from his bow and guided his arrow, killing all who dared to be in their path. They took out almost everyone, allowing their team the time needed to retreat.

Satisfied, Hanzo turned his back, intending to run to the ship to join everyone else when he heard McCree shout something, followed by the unmistakable ring of a sniper taking a shot. Hanzo closed his eyes and braced himself for the impact of a bullet. What he didn’t expect, however, was the impact of a body.

Someone large seemed to have fallen on him and it was only when he was able to wiggle out from under them did he realize it was McCree. And McCree had been shot.

McCree had taken a bullet intended for him.

Hanzo didn’t have time to be shocked. Not now. As fast as he could, he lifted McCree so that he could drag him onto the ship. He hadn’t even had time to check if the wound was serious. There was no time to panic.

When they were half way up the ramp, Lena began to close it and take off. The change in angle and momentum sent Hanzo stumbling forward, the weight of McCree causing him to fall fully into the ship, crashing to the ground. Lucio and Hana were quick to take him, pulling him off of Hanzo and immediately attending to his wound. Free of McCree’s weight, Hanzo pulled himself up to sit against a wall to try and catch his breath.

Lucio was frantic in trying to heal McCree, amping up his music to make the nanobots act faster, using the first aid kit kept on the ship to remove the bullet and bandage him up. Hanzo watched with rapt attention. If McCree died because of him-

No, he would not let himself think that far.

It wasn’t until Lucio heaved a sigh of relief and said, “he’s going to be alright,” that Hanzo felt himself finally take a deep, fulfilling breath.

They had made it. They were safe. McCree was going to live.

Without the roar of the battlefield and the fear of losing McCree, he was finally able to process what exactly had transpired.

McCree, a man who he thought very much disliked him, risked dying so that Hanzo would live. Why would he have done that? Hanzo was sure he had done it just because McCree was a selfless man, but even so, just the gesture made his chest feel tight with an emotion he was unfamiliar with.

No one had ever sacrificed themselves for him.

Even after everyone had settled down for the short flight back to base, assured in the survival of everyone on board, Hanzo continued to stare in wonder at the man who laid on the floor in front of him, surrounded by the warm, healing glow of whatever nano-technology came stocked with the ship. He looked peaceful. He looked almost angelic.

As soon as he had that thought, he felt his chest constrict as a cough made its way up his throat. He didn’t think much of it, placing his hand over his mouth to cover it. The exposure to debris and dust from a battlefield caused many people to cough once everything had settled down.

When he pulled his hand away, however, he found a single, blood-red rose petal laying delicately in his palm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thought I would try my hand at a hanahaki fic. For those of you who are wet and wild enough to want to read a sad version, I'm planning on writing an alternate ending after this one is finished so those of us who need it can get their sad fix.
> 
> Feel free to [follow me](https://savethebees-writing.tumblr.com/) for updates and such


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I think I found something. It is called hanahaki disease.” Genji turned his screen toward Hanzo, showing the article he had found. “It is born from unrequited love and manifests as flowers growing in the victim’s lungs, causing them to cough up the petals."
> 
> “’Born from unrequited love?’” Hanzo repeated with a scowl. “That is ridiculous and most certainly not the case. This cannot be what I have.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just for the record, kids, I do NOT condone coughing into your hand. You better be keeping that shit to the crook of your elbow. The use of coughing into a hand is used for dramatic purposes ONLY.

McCree had been in the medbay for a full 24 hours. Surely with all of the technology Overwatch had at its disposal, he would be healed enough that he would be perfectly fine with seeing Hanzo and answering the question that had been occupying his mind since the shot had been fired.

Even if he wasn’t, Hanzo was already at the doors to the medbay so he couldn’t back down now. He _had_ to know. Why would someone like him – warm, courageous, well-liked by all – risk his life to save someone like Hanzo, someone who hardly even deserved to be alive in the first place.

Just as he was reaching out to pull the doors, they swung open with such force that Hanzo had to jump backwards just to avoid getting hit in the face.

“Oh my! My apologies, I did not see- Agent Shimada?” Angela Ziegler stood in the door frame, looking quite shocked as she realized who she almost hit on her way out. The look of shock morphed into a curious gaze, like he was the last person she expected to be at her doorstep. Hanzo was pleased to note that she did not look as bedraggled as she would have if she had to fight to keep McCree alive. Her hair was neat and her lab coat was pristine. “Can I help you with something?”

Hanzo suddenly felt embarrassed about why he had come. In all his time at Overwatch, he had only visited the med bay once, other than when he had been injured, and it was when Genji had been too close to an explosion on a mission and had come back with several of his omnic limbs in a box.

He cleared his throat, determined to push on and get the answers he desired. “I am here to see McCree.”

Angela’s brow furrowed as she examined him, looking for any indication of hostility or perhaps even a joke. When she found none, she stepped aside to let him pass. “Be careful, Agent Shimada, he is still recovering,” she warned, still unsure of his intentions.

“I understand, thank you.” He walked passed her quickly, wanting nothing more than to be done with the interaction. 

_Get in, ask, get out,_ he repeated over and over in his head to keep him on track in accomplishing his goal without being a nuisance.

All thoughts of leaving quickly vanished as soon as Hanzo saw McCree sitting up in the bed. McCree was fully awake, scrolling through whatever he was reading on the device in his hands. He would have actually appeared to be the picture of health were it not for the bandages wrapped around his torso. He looked perfectly fine. Yet, something in Hanzo yearned to take care of him. Perhaps it was his instincts telling him to repay the man for saving his life.

Looking at the bandages also made Hanzo become painfully aware that McCree was shirtless.

He turned away as he felt his chest constrict in the familiar feeling of a cough coming on. He had marked the incident on the ship as a one-time strange fluke. Either the petal had somehow been in his palm before, or he had managed to breathe one in during the mission only to cough it out later. Neither explanation felt highly likely, but Hanzo didn’t feel the need to receive medical attention for something so small and coincidental.

But as he removed his hand and found another petal in it, he couldn’t help but wonder about what were the chances of the same coincidence happening twice within 24 hours.

McCree hadn’t noticed him when he had walked in, but the sound of Hanzo coughing drew his attention to his presence.

“Shimada? What the hell’re you doin’ here?”

Hanzo quickly stuffed the petal in his pocket and turned back toward the injured man. “I came to see you, actually.”

When he met McCree’s gaze, he was caught off guard. He wore the same look of confusion, surprise, and skepticism that Angela had given him, but unlike Angela’s, McCree’s made him feel warm for some reason. For the first time in a long while, he felt _nervous_, and he didn’t know why.

“I-I wanted to see if you were alright.” He had stuttered. He had honest-to-god _stuttered_. And he had completely forgotten to ask what he had wanted to ask. What was wrong with him?

McCree narrowed his eyes at him in suspicion. “I’m doin’ just peachy. No thanks to you.” He hadn’t bothered to set down the device in his hand, which combined with his words to make it quite clear that he didn’t want to talk to Hanzo.

“Yes, about that,” he said as he felt his cheeks warm with embarrassment. “I also wanted to tell you thank you.”

There was a pause that hung between them, heavy with Hanzo’s intent to say more, and McCree’s expectation of the same thing.

“Yeah, well, let’s make one thing clear,” McCree said when it became obvious Hanzo wasn’t going to follow up. “I didn’t do it for you. Genji would’ve diced my ass if I had let you die.”

And there it was. The answer Hanzo had forgotten that he wanted. But despite its apathetic nature, it did not dampen his gratitude or the warmth that had not dimmed since the conversation began.

“But even so, I am grateful. Is there anything I can do to help ease your pain?” He asked, hopeful.

“Angie’s already got me patched up and good to go. I don’t need your help.” McCree had an incredulous look on his face, probably thinking Hanzo got a concussion or something that made him suddenly act like this.

As he opened his mouth to reply, he noticed an empty glass sitting on the little table next to McCree’s bed. “Here, allow me to get you more water.” He moved forward and picked up the glass before McCree could protest or even respond, walking away to find some water.

When he came back, McCree’s eyes were trained on him like a hawk, as if he were worried Hanzo would use this moment to attack him, mouth slightly agape in a shock that had not lessened since he first noticed the man earlier.

Hanzo offered him a small smile as he set the glass down, feeling a sense of satisfaction in doing this small act for McCree.

“Thank you,” McCree said slowly, watching him place the glass on the table.

Another burst of warmth flooded Hanzo at the two words, and as he drew in a breath to respond, he was suddenly wracked with another coughing fit, this one worse than the two previous.

“That’s a nasty cough you got there.” McCree didn’t actually sound concerned. Instead, he sounded grateful for the event that cut through the awkward tension Hanzo had created just moments before.

He held up a finger on the hand that wasn’t currently pressed to his mouth, indicating he needed a moment to speak, but when he thought that moment had come, he was launched back into his coughing fit.

“Damn, maybe you should see Angie about that. Seems like you might have a cold or somethin’.”

A few more seconds and Hanzo was finally able to catch his breath and calm down. Not wanting to look at his hand, he closed his fist tight in one quick movement and felt unnerved when he felt something in it.

“My apologies. I will take my leave now. I wish you a swift recovery, McCree.” With a quick bow, Hanzo turned on his heel and left the medbay, leaving the wounded man to wonder what in the world had just transpired.

It was hard to not look suspicious as he walked as quickly as he could to his room, whispers following him the whole way, but he paid them no mind.

In the safety of his room, behind a closed and locked door, Hanzo carefully opened his hand which had begun to tremble in the anticipation of what he knew he would find there.

Three crushed petals stared back up at him. He still did not know what this meant, but something deep inside of him told him it was a bad omen.

-

He didn’t want to go see Angela. He didn’t want to admit to falling prey to a simple illness. Surely it was just a simple cold that would go away on its own.

His pride and denial were a deadly combination.

What he did do, however, was find a surgical mask to wear until the illness passed. It not only served to protect others from what was, in his mind, a possibly contagious illness, but it also caught the flower petals that he coughed out in a discreet way.

Unfortunately, this meant that most of the other agents on the base gave him an even wider berth than usual. Including in the meeting room he was currently in, receiving a debrief for the mission he was to go on with Genji, Mei, and Winston.

Genji was the only one who dared to even sit next to Hanzo, looking at him from time to time in what could be assumed was concern, but that was impossible to tell with his mask on.

Jack, who was giving the debriefing, continued to drone on about the mission, but he kept saying things Hanzo already knew, apparently assuming no one had read the mission file. Annoyed and bored, he let his mind wander.

He wondered how McCree was doing. He hadn’t heard anything about him since he had visited him a couple days ago. Was he still in pain? Was he back on his feet? Back to his usual self, all smiles and warm laughter?

He didn’t even feel the coughing fit build itself up. One moment he was fine, the next he was gasping for breath in the silence that had come over the room once he had started.

“Hanzo, are you okay?” His brother placed a hand on his shoulder, voice gentle.

“I am fine,” he snapped, shrugging the hand off and turning back to the front of the room. The coughing had subsided, but Hanzo had to be careful so as not to breathe back in the petals that had accumulated in the mask.

“Agent Shimada,” Jack gave him a stern look through his visor. “Do I need to replace you on this mission?”

“No, sir,” he insisted. “I will be fine. A simple cough will not impact my performance in any way, I assure you.” He would not allow it. He could not slip up now that he had come so far.

“It had better not.”

Jack and Hanzo exchanged curt nods before the former picked up where he had left off in the briefing.

Throughout the meeting, Hanzo would catch himself occasionally tonguing the smooth petals that he couldn’t seem to shift to be in a spot that didn’t tickle his lips. On top of that, the scent of roses that was captured within the mask was almost worse than the petals themselves. It was sickly sweet and wholly unpleasant. It all was irritating and he wanted nothing more than to get rid of them but the debriefing dragged on and on.

Finally, after what seemed like hours, they were dismissed and Hanzo made a beeline for the bathroom.

Once inside, he took off his mask, trying to do so in a way that would prevent the petals from spilling so he would not have to pick them up off the ground later. He then inverted the mask into the trashcan, pleased to see the accursed petals slowly drift to the bottom.

“Hanzo?”

He nearly jumped out of his skin as he turned around to see who it was. People usually could not sneak up on him. He was a highly trained assassin, after all. He must have been more distracted by the petals than he had thought.

“Genji. What are you doing here?” He straightened his posture and did his best to look like he was not sick.

Instead of responding, Genji’s head tilted to the side, like he was observing his brother with a curious gaze. He stepped forward and reached toward Hanzo’s chin, gently plucking something off before bending down and picking up something else lying next to Hanzo’s foot. When he had come back up, he presented the two petals he held between his fingers and Hanzo paled.

“Brother, what is going on?”

-

“I think I found something. It is called hanahaki disease.” Genji turned his screen toward Hanzo, showing the article he had found.

After Hanzo had explained his peculiar ailment, Genji had insisted that he join him in his room while they tried to figure it out.

“It is born from unrequited love and manifests as flowers growing in the victim’s lungs, causing them to cough up the petals,” he explained.

“’Born from unrequited love?’” Hanzo repeated with a scowl. “That is ridiculous and most certainly not the case. This cannot be what I have.”

“It is the only thing I can find where the symptoms include coughing up flower petals. So unless you can somehow find something else that matches your symptoms, I think we need to consider this as a possibility.”

“I am not in love, Genji.”

Genji put his chin in his hand and stared at Hanzo with an expression he wished he could see. “Are you sure? Is it not possible for someone to have caught your eye?” The teasing tone told Hanzo that the expression was definitely smug.

Involuntarily, thoughts of a certain cowboy drifted into his head at the prompt. Soft brown eyes, an absolutely ridiculous, yet endearing belt buckle, and a heart kind enough to risk his life for someone like Hanzo. It was almost annoying how often McCree had managed to slip into his thoughts recently. 

As if on cue, Hanzo started to hack and cough again. Prepared for this, he leaned down between his knees and coughed into the small trashcan they had placed there while Genji gently rubbed his back.

“I think that is an answer in and of itself. Can you believe it? My brother, the great Hanzo Shimada, in love? I never thought I would see the day.”

“Shut up,” Hanzo bit out, feeling a blush beginning to bloom on his cheeks as he spat out the last rose petal from his coughing fit. “I am not in love.”

Genji completely ignored him. “So who is it?”

“Did that article say anything about how long this infernal disease would last?” He would rather die than admit to Genji that he maybe, possibly, _potentially_, had a small crush on McCree.

“Oh, I only read the first part of it. Let me see.” He turned back to the article he had pulled up and read in silence for a few moments.

Hanzo may not have been able to see Genji’s face, but he could tell his prognosis was not good. Genji kept shifting in his chair and keeping his hands folded, as if to keep them from shaking. He even let out a small gasp at one point.

Hanzo couldn’t stand the anticipation.

“Well?”

“Well, if this is truly what you have, then there is good news and there is bad news.” He reached up and removed his visor, setting it on the desk in front of him before turning to face Hanzo. “The good news is that it is completely reversible! All you have to do is talk to the object of your affections and receive a confession of their love!”

Hanzo glared at him. “That is horrible news. That is not going to happen in a hundred lifetimes.”

“It can also be removed surgically,” Genji was quick to add.

“Why did you not lead with that? I will see Angela immediately and see about getting this removed.”

“Wait! You have not heard the bad news yet.”

Right. Hanzo had forgotten about that.

“If you get the surgery and remove the flowers, you will also remove the feelings that had caused it in the first place. That is to say, you will stop loving this person forever. And…” Genji hesitated. “There is a possibility that you will lose the ability to feel anything for anyone else ever again.”

Hanzo put his head in his hands and rubbed his temples. This was all too much too fast. “And if I were to just let it be? I could learn to live with coughing up flower petals if that is all it is.”

“This article says that it is a terminal disease. That it will continue to get worse until you choke on the flowers or your lungs collapse.”

“Of course,” he sighed. Fate had always been cruel to him. “Then let us pray that I do not have this hanahaki.”

-

At Genji’s insistence, Hanzo made his way back to the medbay later that day to ask for an evaluation from Dr. Ziegler. It was the only way they would know for absolute certain if it was something he needed to worry about.

“I am afraid it is just as you feared.” Angela showed him the images taken of his chest cavity, pointing at the blooms that were growing there. “But the good news is that it has only just begun to manifest, meaning there is still plenty of time for you to talk to the object of your affection or to get the surgery. I would advise you to at least attempt the former before you go ahead with the latter.”

“That will not be happening. I want this removed.” Just the thought of even approaching McCree to tell him about his feelings made his chest tighten in what he thought might be a coughing fit but was actually just anxiety.

Angela gave him a pitying smile that made his blood boil. “I understand your trepidation about approaching this person, but I would like you to please at least _consider_ this option. As your doctor, I am required to ensure your best quality of life, and with all of the risks associated with the operation, I would wait until you were absolutely sure that it is what you want.”

“So you will not remove it?”

She sighed. “I am going to schedule you for a checkup in two weeks’ time. If you have not changed your mind by then, I will proceed with the operation. Sound fair?”

Hanzo did not want to have to endure two weeks of coughing up flower petals, but if it was what the doctor needed to be assuaged in his decision, he would do it. “Fine.”

“Good.” She entered the information she needed into her computer before she let Hanzo go with instructions to rest when he could and to talk to the person he loved.

He left with a scoff, pulling his surgical mask back over his mouth.

There was no possible way that McCree would love him in return. He knew that, in the end, not even someone who shone as bright as McCree could change what he had done or make him any more worthy of the love he wanted. No, McCree would just laugh at him if he talked to him, and that would be a fate worse than choking to death on rose petals.

Still, some other part of him that still dared to hope was reminded of McCree jumping in front of that bullet for him, and laughing at his joke, and complimenting him on a particularly skillful shot. He thought of the rare few smiles that were directed his way and felt himself smile in response to the thought.

Of course that was followed immediately by a coughing fit that he promptly took care of in the nearest bathroom, as per usual.

He left the bathroom, intending on going back to his room and sulking for the rest of the night. What he did not expect was to hear a very familiar voice hiss out a, “fuck,” followed by the sound of something scattering.

Hanzo followed the sound. It was nearby, all he had to do was turn down the next hall when he saw the source. McCree was struggling to pick up a rather large amount of papers that had scattered all over the hall, adding them to the already huge pile he was carrying in his arms.

He looked like he needed help.

Without even thinking about it, Hanzo rushed forward, beginning to pick the papers up. “Here, allow me to help.”

“Thank you so much, I- Shimada?” McCree had paused in picking up the papers long enough to see who it was who had come to help him and ended up stopping completely from shock. It appeared as though Hanzo was incapable of doing anything but surprise him.

“Yes, that is my name.” Hanzo didn’t look up from where he was gathering papers, but he imagined McCree was looking at him strangely.

“What- why-“ McCree stopped and started a few times before he figured out what he wanted to say. “What’re you doin’?”

“What does it look like I am doing? I am helping.”

“But… why?”

Hanzo sighed and stood up with the pile he had accumulated, placing it on top of the pile in McCree’s hands. _I owe you a life debt. I want to try and begin to pay you back for everything you have done for me. I want to be kind to you. I love you._ So many reasons swirled around in his head, but he said none of them, silently returning to picking up the rest of the papers.

“Alright. Uh, you sure you should be doin’ that? With you bein’ sick an’ all?”

“It is just a cough, McCree,” he lied. “I am perfectly capable of picking up papers. Why do you have all of these, by the way? I was under the impression this base was fully digitized.”

“It is, but there are still some old files they used to keep on paper that Winston wanted to look at. ‘Course they’re all outta order now, but I’m sure he’ll figure it out.”

Hanzo gathered up the last of the papers and set them gently in McCree’s hands. “Perhaps you should be more careful next time,” he said, no trace of malice in his voice, which McCree definitely noticed, if his face was anything to go by. And with that, he walked away, not wishing to stay any longer and risk embarrassing himself.

-

The next time Hanzo decided to help McCree was a few hours before he was to leave on his mission. He passed by a window overlooking the main hanger and noticed McCree loading crates of supplies onto a dropship. He wasn’t struggling, like he had been with the papers, but Hanzo still felt the need to help him. Training could wait.

McCree once again looked surprised, but didn’t question it this time. In fact, almost no conversation passed between the two as they carried crates up and down the loading platform.

When the last crate was being loaded, they passed each other on the platform, McCree going up with a box in his hands, Hanzo going down, and their arms brushed against each other for one fleeting second. It was enough to send Hanzo quickly walking away to hide his cough.

-

The mission itself passed without a hitch. Hanzo had been right. The hanahaki had not impacted his performance at all, his cough miraculously kept at bay throughout the entirety of the mission, and the team went home right on schedule, fully successful.

The night after they had returned found Hanzo in the mess hall, having arrived after most people had already finished their food. He liked to get there at a time where it seemed like he was being social, but really, he was just enduring the few more minutes needed for the rest of the agents to clear out.

It took a bit longer than usual, but eventually the hall fell into the silence that Hanzo had come to enjoy. He took his time eating, seeing no reason to rush. When he was done, he took his dishes to the large kitchen they all shared. He was going to place them in the sink when he noticed it was full.

“Disgusting,” he muttered to himself, walking over to the chart that would say who had neglected their responsibility to do the dishes that day.

Upon seeing McCree’s name, all of his annoyance dissipated.

He turned back to the full sink, already deciding that he would do them for McCree. One more thing to try and pay him back, to try and prove himself.

That was how McCree found him, stopped dead in his tracks at the sight of Hanzo elbow deep in soapy water, doing the chore that was supposed to be his.

“Alright, that’s it. What’s goin’ on here?” He asked, frustration in his voice.

That wasn’t right. He wasn’t supposed to be frustrated. He was supposed to be grateful, happy that Hanzo was doing this so he wouldn’t have to.

“I am doing the dishes,” he answered, not looking up from his task.

“You’re doin’ _my_ job.”

“Yes. I figured you would not mind, considering you had waited all day to do them.”

“I was g_onna_ do them. Why’re you helpin’ me all of a sudden? First the papers, then the boxes, now you’re doin’ my damn chores?”

Hanzo looked up at him then, a sense of dread hitting him when McCree appeared to be angry.

“If this is about me takin’ that bullet, if this is about you thinkin’ you owe me somethin’, then knock it off! I already told you, I didn’t do it for you, so stop tryin’ to repay me. I don’t want your gratitude and I certainly don’t want your help.”

The words hurt. He _wanted_ to help. He_ wanted_ to show McCree just how grateful he was. Hearing that it was all unwanted dredged up an all too familiar feeling that had been particularly prominent when he had first arrived.

Unwanted.

Unloved.

He dried off his hands before turning fully to face the other man. “Your intentions may not have had me in mind, but even so, it was an honorable act and I do not wish to give you reason to regret it.”

“Regret it? What do you think I’m gonna do? Wake up one day and realize I made a mistake and shoot you to make us even? Oh, but wait,” he said sarcastically, splaying his hands in an equally sarcastic gesture. “He did the dishes for me that one time, I better put my gun away.”

Hanzo could feel his face getting red from embarrassment, his brow drawing together to match McCree’s look of anger. “Is it so hard for you to accept my help? Or am I too vile of a man for you to even consider it.”

“Well, now that you mention it, I think I would rather not be helped by the same hands that murdered their own brother.”

Unwanted.

Unloved.

The whole conversation only served to confirm Hanzo’s worst fears. He didn’t even have time to leave before coughs began to rack his entire body, knocking him to his knees after just the first few.

“Uh, Shimada?”

McCree’s words of concern fell on deaf ears as Hanzo coughed so hard, it made tears stream down his face as he braced himself against the cold floor of the kitchen. Petals began to flood the mask he was wearing at an alarming rate, filling it until he was breathing them back in with every gasping breath, choking and hacking.

He started to panic. He couldn’t draw a single breath. He clawed at the mask, trying to get it off as quickly as he could, no longer caring about keeping his disease a secret.

Petals floated around him as they fell free of their confines, almost beautiful, were it not for the man who was dying because of them.

“Shit. Are those petals?”

Hanzo had completely missed whenever McCree had knelt down to see if he was okay. He was still coughing, though it had begun to calm down slightly.

“Shimada… do you have hanahaki?”

Just his luck. McCree knew exactly what he was suffering from. Fate truly was cruel.

Hanzo nodded slowly, drawing in shaking, shallow breaths.

McCree rubbed a hand down his face with a pained sigh. “It’s for me, isn’t it?”

This was the absolute last thing Hanzo had ever wanted. And now he was living his worst nightmare.

He couldn’t respond, still trying to catch his breath and afraid of anything that he could possibly say. He couldn’t make this better. It was impossible. The only thing he could do was ride it out and hope McCree wouldn’t completely shatter his heart.

The silence stretched on for far too long. Hanzo felt like he was going to be crushed under the weight of everything going unsaid.

Then McCree stood up, leaving only his boots within Hanzo’s line of sight.

“You can’t possibly expect me to love the man who hurt my best friend. No. You better get the surgery, Shimada. I’ll kill you myself if you make Genji suffer again.”

And without another word, he left Hanzo where he still knelt, surrounded by petals, lungs and heart aching.

Unwanted.

Unloved.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finally, after much too long, the thing came out along with a last couple of rose petals. Hanzo took a moment to catch his breath before slowly, cautiously opening his eyes. Lying on top of a petal, glistening with saliva and blood, was a thorn.
> 
> “Fuck.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter got a bit more gruesome than planned. Nothing too graphic but still, proceed with caution.

That same night, after McCree had rejected him, Hanzo found himself in his room, staring blankly at the wall in front of him as he sat on his bed. He thought about how he still had five more days to endure this until it would finally be cut out of him. The thought of what all he might lose aside from his love for McCree was drowned out by the mere hope of relief that night.

His mind was buzzing at a mile a minute but his body felt nothing. He remained unmoving for what was probably hours, doing nothing but thinking himself into hopelessness.

He was numb and grieving at the same time.

The only thing that managed to break the funk he had worked himself into was the onslaught of another coughing fit. It wasn’t as violent as the last one, but the amount of petals he coughed up hadn’t seemed to diminish. And this time, it _hurt_.

Hanzo placed a hand over his throat and squeezed his eyes shut in pain as he continued to cough. It felt like something was stuck there, scraping and tearing as it was slowly worked out by his hacking. This had never happened in all of the other fits he had had and it scared him.

Finally, after much too long, the thing came out along with a last couple of rose petals. Hanzo took a moment to catch his breath before slowly, cautiously opening his eyes. Lying on top of a petal, glistening with saliva and blood, was a thorn.

“Fuck.”

-

Hanzo had wished that the thorn was only a one-time occurrence, but he remembered his ongoing feud with fate and realized he would not be so lucky.

It had started slow. The next fit he had did not have any thorns, and he allowed himself to hope, but then the next one had one, and then the next, and the next. Only one thorn each, but it was enough to make Hanzo’s throat feel sore and raw after each one.

The mask he had been using to catch the evidence of his illness was useless now. He was coughing up way more petals than could fit without him choking. He still wore it though. It kept the reason for his coughing hidden long enough for him to hide and deal with it in secret.

It did not matter much anyway, seeing as he left his room even less frequently than before. He wanted to eliminate any possibility of encountering McCree again before his surgery, skipping entire meals and isolating himself as much as possible.

Unfortunately for him, it caught the attention of his concerned brother.

A soft knock sounded on Hanzo’s door after the third night of him skipping dinner. He already knew it was Genji before he even opened the door. There was no one else it could have possibly been, though a voice at the back of his mind hoped beyond all hope that it was McCree.

“Hanzo? Are you okay?” The voice behind the door spoke in gentle Japanese, immediately squashing the tiny hope that Hanzo had had.

He didn’t want to let his brother in. He didn’t want to see or speak to anyone, but after he didn’t reply, the knocking became more frantic.

“Hanzo, you can’t do this to me. I need to know that you are okay.” _That you are still alive_. The implication rang heavy in Hanzo’s ears and he realized that Genji had probably come to make sure the hanahaki hadn’t killed him yet.

He stood up and opened the door, standing in the door frame as he watched his brother visibly relax at the sight of him. “I am fine.” His voice was hoarse from disuse and the thorns he had been coughing up. When he tried to clear his throat, he involuntarily winced from the ache that had begun to be always present.

Genji sighed. “No, you are not. I have not seen you eat, I have hardly seen you outside of your room, you are sitting in the dark-“ he looked over Hanzo’s shoulder as he analyzed his living conditions. “You look like you have not slept, and just then, you winced when you spoke. You cannot possibly tell me you are fine, brother.”

“I am fine,” he said again, moving to close the door, but Genji was too fast and slipped past him before he could even register it happening.

“What’s wrong, Hanzo? Is it the hanahaki? Are you too sick to leave your room now?” He spoke quickly, his worry evident. “Should I take you to see Angela?”

“No, it is not the disease,” he reassured, neglecting to tell Genji about the thorns he had begun to cough up.

“Then… did something happen? Did someone make you feel like you weren’t allowed to eat with us?”

_In a way._ “No. I am fine. Leave me alone.”

Genji just looked at him, his back straightening and his shoulders setting back. It may have been the dark room or the sustained isolation playing weird trick on his mind, but Hanzo could have sworn he saw his brother’s eyes narrow behind the visor.

“You think you are so good at lying, Hanzo, but I know you, and I know that you are lying. What happened? Who did this? I will talk to them and-“

“No!” His protest was out before he could stop it, but the thought of Genji speaking to McCree about what had happened made him sick with anxiety and embarrassment.

A beat of silence hung in the air as Genji began to almost visibly draw conclusions.

“It was your crush, wasn’t it. You spoke to them and it did not go well.”

He sneered at him, trying to hide how sad the reminder made him. “Obviously.”

“Hanzo… are you in love with Jesse? I noticed he had been acting strange around the same time I noticed your disappearance, but you were a more pressing matter. Now, I believe the two are connected. Am I correct?”

Hanzo’s face fell as he crossed his arms in a guarded position. “And what of it? McCree made his feelings toward me very clear. There is nothing neither you nor I can do. Now you know.”

“Oh, Hanzo,” he said, his voice laden with pity, as he walked up to his brother and put a hand on his shoulder. “I am so sorry. I thought that perhaps there was still hope for the hanahaki to be cleared. Does this mean you are going to go through with the surgery?”

He wanted to shake off the hand. He wanted to scold his brother for his pity, but at this point, he felt too drained to do either. “Do you want me to?”

“No, but I do not want you to die either. I just got you back, I would hate to lose you again.”

“Even if I am incapable of loving anyone ever again?”

Genji gave a small laugh. “You mean like when you were 16?”

It was a very inappropriate time for a joke, but even so, it brought a smile to Hanzo’s lips for the first time in a long time. “You would be so cruel to a dying man, brother?”

With a shrug, Genji removed his hand from Hanzo’s shoulder only to playfully punch him in the arm. “We’ve been worse before. Nothing we can’t handle.”

Hanzo took note of the use of ‘we’ and stored it away to make sure he felt every ounce of love he could, just in case.

“Now, won’t you come and eat? I promise Jesse has already eaten and left.”

“Thank you. Something to eat would be very much appreciated.”

“Then let’s go!”

As Genji led them toward the mess hall, chattering all the way as if nothing was wrong, Hanzo could only think of what it would be like to no longer hold any kind of love for his brother. The chances of it happening were slim, but even so, the thought terrified him.

Along with that thought came a question that shook his entire understanding of himself and the situation: would it even be worth it to get the surgery?

-

Hanzo only had 18 hours left until Angela would ask for his decision.

Ever since his talk with Genji the previous day, he had been weighing the pros and cons of each option, placing a value on his life based on what few emotional connections to people he had and his usefulness out on the field. Was taking that life away better or worse than replacing it with a shell of who the man used to be? The decision was impossible to make and it tore at him worse than the thorns did.

Deciding he needed some fresh air and a drink, he grabbed the bottle of sake he kept stashed away and headed for the roof, leaving his mask behind.

The night air was crisp and refreshing as the breeze gently moved across his cheeks and made his hair flutter. It did not clear his mind as he thought it would, but the sound of the ocean in the distance was calming.

He sat on the edge of the roof, dangling his feet over the edge, and took a deep breath before opening the bottle he had brought. His intentions were to get tipsy enough that his anxiety would fade enough to make the correct choice more apparent, but as he took the first swig, he realized that would not be happening.

The sake burned his scratched up throat, making it feel like it was on fire. He let out a hiss and glared at the bottle as if it was its fault.

Then anger flooded him like a dam had been broken. He was angry at the disease for disallowing him from drinking, for making him choose whether or not to die, for causing him pain in every way, and he was angry at McCree for rejecting him and making things worse. But most of all, he was angry at himself for getting into this situation in the first place. He was angry that he had ever dared to raise his sword against his brother, that he had decided to join Overwatch, and that he had fallen in love.

He took the bottle of sake and hurled it onto the roof next to him. It shattered with a satisfying crash, spilling sake and broken glass everywhere.

Chest heaving in anger, he continued to stare at the mess he had made until he finally managed to calm down. Anger wouldn’t do anyone any good. He forced himself to take deep, calming breaths, and closed his eyes, focusing on what his senses were telling him rather than what his mind was screaming at him. He felt the rough roof beneath the flesh part of his legs, he felt the soft fabric of his pants from where his hands were resting in his lap, he felt the calming breeze, he smelled the salty sea water mixed with the sharp scent of sake, he heard waves crashing and birds calling. All of this combined together to ground him in the present.

He was interrupted in his meditation by the sound of heavy footfall coming from behind him. He knew who it was just from the sound, the unmistakable ring of spurs coming to a halt as the owner of them realized the roof was not empty as he had hoped it would be.

There was silence for a few moments, as if McCree was debating between leaving or saying something.

“Seems like we both had the same idea, Shimada.” Apparently the latter won.

Hanzo opened his eyes but continued to stare straight ahead. “It appears so.” Any anger he held toward McCree vanished completely at the sound of his voice. Damn him for being so loveable.

“’Suppose I better leave you alone then.” McCree sounded like he was walking on eggshells with his words. It made Hanzo almost want to roll his eyes.

“No need. If you wish to sit, I will not stop you, but I am afraid I do not have any drink to share.” He gestured to his side where the broken bottled still laid.

McCree gave a low whistle at the sight of the destruction. “What’d that bottle ever do to you?”

Hanzo didn’t respond, opting to continue to stare into the distance. He did not think McCree would actually join him, but he was pleasantly surprised when the other man sat right next to him.

Soon the smell of cigar smoke wafted through the air as they sat in comfortable silence. This was exactly what Hanzo dreamed of: sitting side by side and enjoying each other’s company. It was doubtful that McCree was _enjoying_ his company, but he could imagine.

Just when he thought the silence would never be broken, McCree spoke up.

“Listen, Shimada-“

“Please, call me Hanzo.”

“Uh, sure, Hanzo, look, I’m sorry ‘bout the other day.”

“Did Genji speak to you?” It was the only way Hanzo could wrap his mind around the fact that McCree was apologizing to him.

“What? No, I just-“ McCree sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “I don’t hate you, alright? I know I kinda made it seem like I did, but I let my anger get the best o’ me and I said some things that I probably shouldn’t’ve, and I’m sorry.”

Hanzo’s chest felt light for the first time in a long while, a smile forming on his lips. “Apology accepted. Do not worry for me, I understand you do not return my feelings and I do not blame you for it.”

“An’ I still don’t. That hasn’t changed. Just wish I had been less of an asshole ‘bout it, in hindsight.”

There was a tickle at the back of his throat, but Hanzo forced it back down, desperately not wanting to ruin the moment.

“So, I take it you still haven’t gotten that surgery?”

“No. Tomorrow is when Dr. Zeigler will ask for my decision.”

“Yeah? An’ what have you decided?”

“I do not know yet. That is why I came here.”

“That why you smashed that poor bottle too?”

Hanzo gave a sheepish smile. “Indirectly.”

They fell back into silence. McCree was gazing out toward the water, clearly lost in thought. Hanzo took the opportunity to be a little selfish and really take the time to look at the other man. He was dying, after all. This was the least he could do for himself.

McCree was the most beautiful man he had ever seen, even though he could only see his profile. The moonlight made him seem like he was glowing, highlighting his cheekbones and making his laugh lines seem more prominent. His lips wrapped around his cigar in a way that might have been erotic if Hanzo’s mind was not drowning in his affection for him. His beard and hair were scruffy at best but it was absolutely endearing. Hanzo wanted to run his fingers through them to smooth them out, or at least just to see what they felt like.

Eventually, McCree broke both the silence and Hanzo’s reverie.

“For what it’s worth, I still think you should get the surgery. I know it ain’t the most ideal option, but it’s better than dyin’.” He took a deep breath before continuing. “An’ I don’t wanna lose another teammate. Even if that teammate is you.”

Hanzo’s heart nearly beat out of his chest. The only way he could think to hide that fact was to contain all of his emotions to a teasing smile. “Careful, McCree. Someone might actually think you care.”

And for another blissful moment, Hanzo had made McCree laugh again. Warm and bright, it filled Hanzo with what felt like pure sunshine.

“You’re somethin’ else, Shi- Hanzo,” he corrected himself. “Maybe I underestimated you. I still don’t love you by any means, but after you get that surgery, maybe we can work on bein’ friends or somethin’.”

“I would like that.”

As he said it, he realized three things: first, that he never wanted to live in a world where McCree didn’t make him feel this warm, this happy, this _alive_. Second, that the mere possibility of losing his love for his brother, the driving force behind his path to redemption and often his only reason to live, was too much of a risk to even think about taking.

And third, that he was not going to get the surgery.

-

Angela nodded grimly as Hanzo resolutely told her to not proceed with the operation.

“I respect your decision and will proceed to make the preparations for what will be needed as your health declines.”

Hanzo was still sure of his decision, but dread welled up inside him at the thought of what was to come.

“Dr. Ziegler, what should I expect to happen to me as this disease progresses?”

She gave him a small smile that was probably meant to be reassuring. “The first thing you should expect is a very scratchy throat due to the thorns you told me about. I can give you something for the pain, but I cannot say that your voice will hold out for too much longer.”

Angela continued to tell him about what was going to happen to him, tiptoeing around saying outright that he was going to deteriorate from the inside out until he choked, his lungs were punctured, or his heart simply stopped from the strain put on his body.

Even so, Hanzo was willing to suffer through it. His shortened life would still be vastly better than the alternative.

“I will also say this,” Angela added as they began to wrap up the appointment. “Your hanahaki will remain reversible until its final stages, so if you ever change your mind and would like for me to remove it, please do not hesitate to tell me. The sooner it is removed, the easier the recovery is.”

“I will keep that in mind.” He inclined his head as a quick bow to show his thanks before heading out.

Now all he needed to do was figure out how to tell Genji.

-

“You… you are not getting it?” Genji stared at him with eyes wide with worry, his voice soft with disbelief.

“No.” It pained him to see Genji look so hurt, but he had to tell him eventually. It wasn’t as if he could hide the fact that he was dying.

“But, Hanzo, you- you can’t die!” He rushed forward and grabbed Hanzo by his shoulders.

They were standing in the middle of Genji’s room. It had taken Hanzo well over 2 hours after they had eaten dinner to gather up the courage to go to his brother and deliver his news. He had rehearsed exactly what he was going to say in his head, but as soon as he had begun to speak, he had forgotten everything he had planned. Now he was in uncharted waters, trying to reassure his brother in his decision.

“We risk dying every time we leave this base. This is not much different from that.”

“Shut up! This is very different!” Genji looked and sounded panicked, accidentally shaking Hanzo with each word. “You cannot ask me to watch you die! This is unfair! I just got you back!”

The guilt Hanzo had begun to feel gripped his heart like a vice, but he couldn’t back down now. “Genji, please,” he said gently, trying to calm the situation even though he, too, was beginning to panic. “I need you to understand, this love that I feel is something I have never experienced before. It is what I have, up until this point, denied myself from ever having and it is so much better than I could have imagined. The fact that I feel it at all is a sign that I am closer to becoming the brother you deserve. I cannot possibly take that away from me.”

“But…” Genji began, but he didn’t quite know what he was going to say, so he slowly closed his mouth and rested his head on Hanzo’s shoulder, letting him continue.

He took a deep breath. Admitting things had never been his strong suit. “I am afraid. I am afraid of what would happen if I got the surgery. I am afraid of living a life where I am unable to love, unable to feel human again. I am afraid of looking at you and McCree and feeling nothing. But I am not afraid of death. I came to terms with death the moment I brought that sword down on you.”

Genji didn’t say anything for a while. Eventually, he pushed himself off of where he was leaning on his brother and looked him in the eyes. “You are a selfish man, Hanzo. But, if I were in your position, I cannot say that I would have made a different choice. I am upset, but that will not stop me from caring for you. Especially not when you need me most.”

The vice around Hanzo’s heart loosened and he let out a breath he didn’t know he had been holding. “Thank you.”

Despite his relief, some small part of him thought that, for everything he had put his brother through, maybe it was a good thing that he was finally being sentenced to death.

-

He began to deteriorate exactly how Angela had predicted. The coughing fits were growing worse and worse and more thorns kept tearing at his throat.

One evening found Hanzo bent over his toilet as he coughed up alarming amounts of blood, tears streaming down his face as the pain became almost unbearable. Afterwards, his throat was so raw that not even the pain killers Angela had given him were enough to dull the pain enough to allow him to sleep. He just laid in his bed, gently pressing a hand against his throat and silently hoping for any amount of relief.

Eventually, there came a point where there was not a single moment where Hanzo wasn’t in pain. It hurt to talk, it hurt to eat, it hurt to cough. Every coughing fit felt like hellfire as the petals continued to tumble out of his mouth day after day, now soaked in blood every time.

Genji kept his promise. Every time he saw Hanzo run off to cough, he was close behind, offering calming words and gently rubbing his back as he choked and hacked. When Hanzo stayed in the mess hall long after everyone had left, taking twice as long to eat his meal as bite after bite brought unbearable agony, he was there sitting next to him, making light conversation. Though he hated Genji seeing him like this, the fact that his brother hadn’t abandoned him meant the world to him.

After about a week, Hanzo could no longer bear eating solid foods. Even drinking the tea and soup broth that were given to him was almost too much. It was extremely frustrating.

On top of all of that, McCree hadn’t taken too well to the fact that Hanzo decided to live out the course of the hanahaki. At first, he almost seemed to return to the same exact cold nature he showed Hanzo when he had first arrived at Gibraltar. He would glare at him from a distance and avoid being in the same room as him. But eventually, he started to be kinder. Perhaps he was remembering their conversation on the roof, perhaps Genji chastised him, perhaps it was all out of pity. Either way, Hanzo certainly was not complaining, especially not when McCree gave him tea suggestions.

“I did not know you enjoyed tea so much,” Hanzo whispered, his voice very hoarse. He could only whisper these days.

“Hey, now, it ain’t always all guns an’ whisky an’ cigars,” McCree said with a relaxed smile, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms. “Sometimes a man likes to sit down with a nice cup of tea. Ain’t nothin’ wrong with that.”

“No, I suppose there is not.” Hanzo hid his own affectionate smile behind a sip of the tea that had sparked the whole conversation.

It was such a silly little conversation but it meant so much to Hanzo that it even happened. The familiarity of it made his heart flutter and erased any regrets he may have had.

But the sleepless nights lost to pain and the lack of proper nutrition were catching up to him.

He was supposed to go on a mission. He probably should have said no, but he wanted to be useful to the team for as long as he possibly could. Unfortunately for him, however, he had been in much better health when he had accepted it.

Now, he sat in the debriefing room with the other people who were going on the mission, going through the motions of listening to what they were going to be up against. It was to be him, Winston, Lucio, Genji, and McCree going to Numbani on an escort mission.

The room wasn’t cold. Hanzo knew this, yet he had been shaking violently ever since he had sat down, as if freezing. He couldn’t stop it. He tried to cross his arms in an attempt to lessen the shivers but it didn’t help. What was worse was that the other people in the room were noticing and casting pitying glances at him.

He cursed inwardly at himself for being a distraction and wanted nothing more than to leave. It was then that he felt something soft being draped over his shoulders. With a start, he looked up in time to catch McCree gently placing his serape over him, a small reassuring smile on his lips.

A love so intense that it should have triggered a coughing fit burst in Hanzo’s chest at the gesture, but for some reason, the thorns seemed to have given him a break. He turned back to the debriefing and wrapped the serape more securely around himself, thankful for the mask that was covering his smile.

When Hanzo tried to give it back at the end of the meeting, McCree refused.

“Don’t worry about it,” he said, raising a hand to give a dismissing wave. “It looks like you need it more than I do right now, so why don’t you just hold on to it for now and give it back later.”

So Hanzo kept it. Long after he should have given it back, he still kept it, hoping that McCree had forgotten he had given it to him in the first place. He knew that line of thinking was foolish, but he did not want to let it go. When his nights were rough, long hours spent coughing up blood, petals, and thorns, wanting to scream in agony but knowing it would only make it worse, he gripped the serape and held it to his chest. This piece of McCree that he was allowed to have lessened his suffering by reminding him why he was suffering in the first place. Keeping his love close to his chest with a tangible symbol of his love’s kindness and warmth allowed him to carry on even when he thought he couldn’t possibly take anymore.

He was so hopelessly in love.

-

Everything had gone according to plan. The team had escorted the target almost to their goal with only minor hiccups, but nothing they couldn’t handle.

“Good work, team!” Winston’s booming voice came over the comms as Hanzo watched them from his perch among the tall buildings. “We only have one more leg of this mission. Everyone remember the plan?”

Everyone signaled their confirmation, Hanzo’s quite a bit quieter than the others’.

There would Talon agents waiting for them at the end of the street. Hanzo was to move ahead, take out their transport, and provide the team with visuals using one of his sonic arrows. Simple enough. He could do it in his sleep.

He moved out from his current position and began to run along the building tops, searching for a better vantage point that would give him access to the enemies huddled in wait. The rest of the team stayed behind with their target, giving Hanzo enough time to do his part. He found a balcony positioned in the perfect position and crouched down to assess the situation before firing any shots.

“There are-“ Hanzo began to speak, to try and relay how many enemies there were, but his voice cut out. Frustrated, he cleared his throat to try again, but that only made him clutch at his throat in pain, coughing as he did so.

_Oh no._

As soon as one cough left his lips, he was done for. The assault from his lungs came without mercy, as if making up for all of the times the hanahaki had spared him. He fell onto his hands and knees on the balcony, spewing petals and thorns and blood. He choked and gagged as the force of his coughing brought him closer and closer to vomiting.

“Hanzo? Are you okay?”

His brother’s worried questions were lost to him as he was hit with wave after relentless wave of coughing that stole the very breath from his lungs, making him feel like he was suffocating.

He couldn’t hear anything. Not his teammates’ calls, not the commotion below him. All he could hear was his own blood rushing in his ears and the panic running through his head. This fit was worse than any he had ever had. Bile and blood mixed together as Hanzo vomited over and over again until blood was dripping down his chin and he was kneeling in a pool of it.

His last memory of the mission was collapsing to the floor of the balcony and seeing a flash of green. Then everything faded to black.

-

When he woke up, the first thing he realized was that he was not in Numbani. He drew in a sharp breath as his eyes widened in panic, causing a machine to his left to begin to beep at a high frequency.

It was only when Angela rushed into the room that Hanzo realized he was back on base.

“You’re okay, you are on Gibraltar,” Angela said, trying to calm him while reading the output of the machine that was making the noise.

Hanzo opened his mouth to speak but all that came out was a rush of air and no sound.

“Do not try to speak. You will only make it worse. Here,” she handed him a device that had a screen with a keyboard displayed on it. “This is a text-to-speech device. Type what you wish to say.”

He felt dejected at the prospect of the disease having gotten to this level so quickly, but he typed his question into the device which read it out in a monotone, robotic voice. “What happened?”

“You had a horrid hanahaki attack while on your mission to Numbani and fell unconscious as a result of it. Your teammates were able to bring you back here, unharmed.”

“Was the mission successful?”

Angela hummed as if thinking about what information to give him. “Yes, though it did not go as smoothly as planned.”

That made Hanzo worry. His fingers tapped furiously against the device as he typed out his next question. “Was anyone hurt?”

“Nothing I could not handle.” She gave him a smile that she probably thought was reassuring but was actually void of any positive emotion.

Hanzo closed his eyes again. _Stupid, stupid, stupid._ He had endangered the whole mission and had caused people to get hurt as a result. His attempts at proving his worth only set him back, and that hurt more than the hanahaki had.

“As your doctor, I am afraid that I have had to make a difficult call concerning your health and the continuation of your service. Unfortunately, I have had to medically discharge you from Overwatch. You are allowed to stay here and use our facilities, but you will no longer be permitted on missions.”

It was for the best, but it still caused a pit to open up in Hanzo’s stomach.

“I would also like to remind you that we are quickly approaching the point where your hanahaki will be irreversible. You are running out of time to get the surgery. Are you still sure this is what you want?”

Was he still sure? He had already come this far, he couldn’t possibly go back on his resolve now.

“I am sure.”

“Very well.” Angela cleared her throat before continuing. “Now that you are awake, Genji has been requesting to see you since you were brought here. Should I let him in?”

He nodded.

Almost as soon as Angela left, she was replaced by his worrying brother.

“Hanzo! Are you okay? You are alive, thank god.” His words were rushed as if he wanted to say a million things in a matter of seconds. “I was so worried you were not going to make it and I-“

Hanzo held up a hand to stop him as he typed a response in his device. “I am okay. Were you hurt?”

“No, I am fine, but Hanzo… you scared me. I thought I had lost you.”

The hurt in Genji’s voice was almost too much. He decided then and there that when the time came, he would not let his brother watch him die.

“I still have time. It was just a bad coughing fit.”

Genji sighed. “Still.”

They sat like that for quite a while, making slow conversation due to having to wait for Hanzo to type what he wanted to say. The last thing he had expected was for McCree to come and interrupt them.

“You goddamn son of a bitch.” McCree had barged into the medbay, his flesh arm in a sling, a bandage across his head, and a scowl on his face.

“Jesse, it was not his fault,” Genji said cautiously, holding up a hand to try and placate the man.

McCree pointed at Genji angrily with the hand that wasn’t in the sling. “You stay the hell outta this. And you,” he switched who he was pointing at to Hanzo. “How dare you put all of us in danger like that.”

Hanzo couldn’t reply, there was no way he could have typed fast enough to appease McCree’s fury. Genji continued to try, though.

“It wasn’t as if he could choose when his attacks come!”

“No, but he sure as shit could’ve chosen to stay off the mission! Or he could have chosen to get the surgery, but no!”

Hanzo wanted to cry. He wouldn’t dare do so in front of people, but facing the consequences of his actions like this sure made him want to.

“Do you even care about us? Do you even care about how much pain your brother is in every single day because he has to watch you slowly die in front of his eyes?”

“Jesse, that is inappropriate!” Genji got up in McCree’s face but was stopped by a single, robotic word.

“Stop.”

Both of the other men in the room turned to face Hanzo as he typed something out. “Genji, could you leave us alone for a moment?”

“Are you sure?”

Hanzo nodded slowly and Genji skeptically looked between his brother and his best friend, judging whether or not leaving them alone was a good idea. He must have decided to trust Hanzo because he left the medbay.

After the doors had shut behind him, McCree began to speak again.

“What the hell’re you doin’, Hanzo?” His tone was much calmer now, still angry, but it was almost tinged with pain as well. “I don’t care about whatever bullshit statement you’re makin’ about your humanity or whatever it is you’re claimin’, don’t you see the damage you’re causin’? Lucio damn near got killed ‘cause of you.”

“I have been relieved of duty. I will no longer be a danger to the team.” Every word he typed was another dagger of guilt plunged into his chest.

“Then what about your brother, huh? Can’t you see how he’s hurtin’? You have to get that surgery before it’s too late. You gotta live for Genji.”

Hanzo thought about his next sentence very carefully, taking his time to type it and then even longer debating whether or not to push ‘send’. He finally pushed the button with a soft sigh.

“And what about you, McCree? Do you care whether I live or die?”

McCree just stared at him for a while before finally speaking, voice softer. “Now how the hell am I supposed to answer that? What kind of a man wishes for another to die?”

It was not the answer Hanzo had wanted, but it told him all he needed to know.

“I would like to rest now. Please leave.”

Without saying another word, McCree turned around and left, and Hanzo was alone once more.

-

He had been instructed to stay under Angela’s direct care for another 24 hours to ensure he did not have another attack like the one in Numbani.

A few hours before he was to be released, he received one more visitor, one he did not expect to see in a hundred lifetimes.

“Hey.” Jack’s voice was gruff as always. He awkwardly stood near the doors to the medbay, not quite approaching yet.

Hanzo stared at him in confusion.

“You’re probably wondering why I’m here, aren’t you?”

He nodded and Jack finally walked closer to where Hanzo was laying.

“I’ve been watching you, Shimada. Everyone here on base knows what’s going on, but I know none of them know exactly what you’re going through.”

Hanzo narrowed his eyes at him. What was Jack getting at?

Jack sat himself down in the chair next to Hanzo’s bed and took off his visor, setting it to the side. Unseeing eyes bore into Hanzo as Jack continued to speak. “I want to show you something, but you can’t tell anyone you saw it, got it?”

Hanzo nodded before he remembered Jack couldn’t see him do so, so he typed up his answer. “Yes.”

“Good.” Jack unzipped his jacket all the way before pulling his t-shirt collar down as far as he could, revealing a thick, pale, healed-over scar running down the middle of his chest.

Hanzo blinked in shock at what he was seeing, at what Jack was telling him with a single gesture.

“The Omnic Crisis was over, but the world still needed Overwatch,” he explained. “What they didn’t need was for their commander to be incapacitated by his own one-sided love.” He gave a bitter huff of a laugh. “He didn’t even know I had it. There was no way we could have been together so I did what I had to do. I never told him. Sometimes I think about if he had possibly loved me too, but it doesn’t matter now.”

A lot about Jack made a lot more sense now to Hanzo. His apparent eternal bitterness, his tendency to isolate himself. Hanzo had seen him care about his team, but it was only then that he realized he never saw him sharing an emotional connection with any of them.

“I didn’t come here to convince you to get the surgery or anything. I came here to offer some solidarity and to share my experience.” He paused for a moment. “I guess you’re probably wondering if I regret getting it removed. The answer I typically give people is that I don’t, but that’s not really the truth. The truth is that I regret it. I regret it every damn day. But I’m alive. I’m alive to make sure the people around me can stay alive too.”

Jack stood up then, placing his visor back on his face before turning to look at Hanzo one more time. “No matter which option you choose for yourself, just know that at least one person understands.”

And with that, Jack left, leaving Hanzo with a lot to think about.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hanzo looked satisfied, like he had finally gotten something off of his chest, while Jesse fished around for something, anything, to say. 
> 
> He finally settled on pulling Hanzo closer and whispering, “You can’t die on me, alright? I’ve barely gotten to know you. So you gotta hold on for as long as you can, you hear me?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a long time coming but it's finally complete! Thank you so much for all of your support and kind comments!
> 
> For those of you who would like to read the alternate ending to this before you read this version, you can find this chapter in its entirety [here.](http://archiveofourown.org/works/22643722)
> 
> Thank you again! I hope you enjoy the conclusion to Sharp and Glorious Thorn!

There was only so much Jesse could avoid about the whole Hanzo situation.

Everything about it was unnerving and he didn’t want any part of it. Every time he even looked at the man, he felt guilty as hell even though he knew it wasn’t his fault that he didn’t love him. It didn’t stop him from thinking about how he had the power to stop this whole thing at any time if he could just love him.

Unfortunately for him, no one on the base seemed to be capable of talking about anything other than Hanzo’s hanahaki. It was a rich vein of gossip, especially when only three people on the whole base knew who the object of Hanzo’s affections was.

He never participated in any spreading of rumors, but it was impossible to avoid hearing about them. He heard all about how Hanzo had been released from the medbay after the mission disaster only to be admitted back a week later, barely able to move. The disease had begun to take a horrific toll on his body. According to what Jesse had heard, his organs were slowly shutting down, his muscles were beginning to atrophy, and his mental health was waning quickly.

Genji, of course, was with Hanzo every second he could be, but Jesse could see that was beginning to wear him down as well. His usual energy was gone, he stopped eating in the mess hall with everyone, opting to eat where he could keep an eye on his brother instead, and Jesse found that not even he could cheer the younger Shimada up.

It wasn’t until Jesse saw Hanzo for the first time since after the mission that he finally believed all the rumors.

They happened to have turned down the same hallway, coming from opposite ends. What Jesse saw made him stop dead in his tracks. Hanzo looked half-dead already. His eyes were sunken in, he had lost a considerable amount of weight, and he was pale and sickly looking. In one hand, he held a cane that he used to help him make one wobbly step at a time, the other was gripping onto his brother’s arm for support as Genji guided them slowly down the hall.

He was also wearing the serape Jesse had given him.

When Hanzo noticed Jesse at the other end of the hall, his eyes brightened ever so slightly, as if he was smiling under his surgical mask. He let go of Genji’s arm, weakly reaching out for him.

Jesse felt like he couldn’t move, like he couldn’t _breathe._ He felt his right hand twitch and he raised it the tiniest bit, almost involuntarily, reaching back for him.

But then Genji noticed what was happening and made Hanzo turn around to avoid going near him, whispering gentle words in Japanese so Jesse couldn’t understand them. The pained whimper Hanzo gave as he was forced away from him was enough to make his heart ache.

-

Jesse wasn’t sure of a lot of things, most of all his opinion of Hanzo, but there was one thing he was absolutely certain of: Genji didn’t deserve any of this, and it broke his heart to see his friend hurting.

On one day in particular, Jesse had wandered a little too close to the medbay in search of something for Winston when he heard the unmistakable sound of crying. He followed his ears until he came up to a room he previously thought was vacant, but clearly someone was in there.

He wasn’t going to disturb them until he caught a glimpse of green through one of the small windows into the room. Worry flooded him as he realized his best friend was having some sort of breakdown and he opened the door without knocking.

Genji leaped to his feet in surprise, not quite able to stop his sniffling. Jesse could now see that he was clutching onto piece of paper and his visor was laying on this floor, tears leaving shining streaks down his cheeks and onto his metal chin piece.

“Hey, Gen,” he said with a gentle voice, as if afraid of scaring him off. “Sorry for startlin’ you. Just got concerned and wanted to see if you’re alright.”

“Jesse! I, uh-“ he quickly wiped at his face, crumpling the piece of paper in the process. “I just, um, I stepped away for a few minutes. I am fine.”

Jesse sighed. “No you ain’t. Sit back down an’ tell me what’s been goin’ on. Unless you don’t wanna, then I can just sit with you or somethin’.”

Genji nodded and sat back down on the one of the few derelict chairs that populated the abandoned conference room. Pulling up another chair right next to him, Jesse sat down too and waited for his friend to speak.

After a few more sniffles, Genji uncrumpled the piece of paper that he had been holding, attempting to smooth it out on his leg. “I wrote to Zenyatta to tell him about what was happening with Hanzo. I asked for guidance and… I wanted him to be here with me at the end. And- and he sent me back a reply, so I wanted to read it and get away for just a few moments. So I came here and…” Tears began to start falling down his face again. “He can’t come. It is not his fault, he- he tried to come but he can’t even though this is when I need him most.” His last words dissolved into heaving sobs.

Jesse knew how much his master meant to Genji. Even as his best friend, he knew there were some comforts he just couldn’t provide. Zenyatta helped Genji find happiness when Jesse couldn’t. If he could go to Nepal and personally bring him to be with Genji, he would have in a heartbeat.

He put an arm around Genji’s shoulders and pulled him against his chest. “Hey now, it’ll be alright. I know I ain’t as wise as Zenyatta, but I’ll be there for you.”

Tears soaked into his shirt as Genji continued to cry, barley getting words out between gasping breaths. “This is so stupid! Hanzo is so stupid! Hanahaki is so stupid! W-why are we Shimadas so cursed?”

Jesse gently rubbed his back and let him get it all out. His heart was breaking for his friend and he was powerless to do anything about it.

“I’m sorry, Gen,” he whispered. He was the cause of this, after all.

Genji shook his head. “Do not be sorry. Love cannot be forced. I would never ask that of you. But…” He leaned back up and looked Jesse in the eyes. “If you could try, just one more time? Jesse, please. It is my last hope.”

He wanted to say no and that it was impossible to fall in love with someone on such short notice, but the raw look of pain behind Genji’s eyes made him throw away any thought of saying that. He couldn’t fall in love and make this all go away, but the least he could do was try. Talking to Hanzo one more time wouldn’t hurt anyone.

“Yeah, alright. I can do that.”

“Really?” Genji sat up straight, something akin to hope flashing across his face.

Jesse nodded. “Give me until tonight.” He was already beginning to hatch a plan. If this was going to be the last time he spoke to Hanzo, he was going to make damn well sure it would be a good memory that would comfort both him and Genji until the end. The thought of it being probably the last time he would speak to Hanzo sent a haunting sense of dread racing through him, but he ignored it for now.

“Thank you so much.” Genji threw his arms around Jesse. “You have no idea how much this means to me.”

Jesse returned the hug, holding his friend close. “You think Angie’ll let me take him out of the medbay for a bit?”

“If she does not, I will distract her so that you can sneak him out.”

A small smile stretched across Jesse’s lips. It was comforting to know that, despite everything, his friend’s mischievous nature had never truly faded.

-

Jesse found himself preparing for the evening a lot more than he had thought he would. What started out as just a simple plan to talk with Hanzo on the roof turned into an elaborate scheme to be as romantic as possible. Just because he didn’t feel the same way about Hanzo didn’t mean he couldn’t give him something nice. As soon as his brain made the connection between the approaching evening and the word ‘date’, he began to run around the base, gathering various supplies: a blanket, some candles, a radio. He even thought about trying to get some champagne before he realized Hanzo couldn’t even drink it.

As time passed and the sun began to set, Jesse began to feel _nervous._ This wasn’t even a real date yet he felt the overwhelming need to impress Hanzo. Maybe it was the thought of not wanting to mess up a dying man’s only wish.

_No fuckin’ pressure,_ he thought to himself as he lit the last candle and took a step back to look at his handy work. _Well, here goes nothin’._

Genji had informed him that Angela had given the all-clear as long as Jesse kept an eye on him, so now all he had to do was go to the medbay and get him.

When he got there, he saw that Hanzo was awake and scrolling through a device in his hand, not noticing Jesse’s presence. Jesse thought back to the time when their positions were reversed almost exactly and wished they could go back to then; back to when Hanzo was still on his feet, when he could talk and laugh, when Jesse had nothing more than a wound that would close up with no problem. He would have given anything to redo that moment, knowing what he did now.

He also noticed, with a particularly painful pang in his chest, that Hanzo was still wearing his serape.

He cleared his throat to get Hanzo’s attention without startling him. When he looked up, there was a brief moment of confusion before that melted away to a serene smile that lit up his entire face. He wasn’t wearing a mask for the first time in a long while that Jesse had seen, and it was nice to be able to see his expressions.

“Hey, darlin’,” he crooned, stepping closer to the bed. “I’ve got a surprise for ya. Think you can stand right now?”

Hanzo nodded enthusiastically, already reaching for the cane standing next to his bed. Jesse rushed forward to help him, offering his arm to support the other man.

Now that he was this close to him, he could see that there was a petal caught in Hanzo’s hair; a bright splash of color against the inky black that surrounded his face. Jesse couldn’t recall if he had ever seen Hanzo with his hair down. Any other thought he had, however, was suddenly overtaken as he noticed dried blood at the corners of Hanzo’s mouth and felt a strong sense of unease.

Slowly, they began to walk toward where Jesse had laid everything out, each step making him more and more nervous. He felt Hanzo trembling and he didn’t know if it was because of excitement or exhaustion but he put an arm around his waist just in case it was the latter. Hanzo smiled and ever so slightly leaned into the touch.

Finally, they reached the roof and Hanzo drew in a sharp breath as he saw what Jesse had carefully set up. A soft blanket was laid on the surface toward the edge of the roof with various mismatched candles set all around and soft music playing from the radio he had managed to convince Mei to let him borrow.

Hanzo looked at Jesse and pointed to the set-up and then back at himself.

Jesse gave him a warm smile. “Yeah. That’s all for you. I wanted to get ya flowers, but I figured that was kinda inappropriate.”

A warm feeling spread through him as the biggest smile he had ever seen stretched across Hanzo’s face.

“Well come on, then. Let’s sit.” He gently led Hanzo over to the blanket and helped him sit down before sitting down next to him. “You like it, then?”

Hanzo whipped out his communicator and furiously typed something. “I love it! Thank you, McCree.”

Jesse wrapped an arm around Hanzo’s shoulders, adjusting the serape as he did. The fabric had become gathered at the shoulder at some point and he wanted to smooth it out to make it more comfortable. Somewhere deep in his mind was a ghost of a thought about how he had always wanted a partner to share his things with. The thought disappeared quickly as he remembered where he was and who he was with.

“If you want, you can have it back. I did not mean to keep it.” Hanzo looked up at him as he finished typing the sentence. There was a sadness to his eyes that told Jesse he didn’t really want to give it back and that he was just trying to be polite.

He ran his hands over the red fabric, smoothing it out after his adjustments. “I thought I told you not to worry ‘bout it. There’ll be plenty of time for you to give it back to me once you’re all better.”

Hanzo’s face fell slightly as he turned and looked out toward the sea in the distance. Jesse followed suit, allowing the two to fall into comfortable silence, just listening to the lilting music filling the air. It was nice, peaceful even. He only wished he could have had this moment under different circumstances.

The silence was broken only when the robotic voice of Hanzo’s communicator cut through Jesse’s thoughts.

“The sea is beautiful. I am going to miss it.”

He hadn’t expected the last half and the resignation of it broke his heart. “Now, don’t go sayin’ things like that. I just told you that you gotta get better so you can give me my serape back. It ain’t too late for you.”

“Yes, it is.”

“I’m sure if you asked, Angie’ll-“

Hanzo held up a hand to stop him so he could type out a response. “Dr. Zeigler has told me the disease has progressed too far. It is too late.”

So that was it then. Hanzo was going to die. A massive pit opened in his stomach while it felt like his brain couldn’t even process the fact. All he could feel was shock and slight nausea. “Well- You- What if-“ He couldn’t finish a single thought.

Hanzo gave him a small, sad smile. “Do not worry, McCree. This is what I want.”

Jesse just shook his head and looked out at the sea again. “Call me Jesse.”

“Jesse.”

He couldn’t see it, but Hanzo’s happiness at the one simple gesture could have rivaled the radiance of the moonlight.

While Jesse tried to think about how much longer the man next to him had, Hanzo typed up something else.

“I have a question for you, Jesse.”

Jesse blinked to dismiss his train of thought and looked back at him. “Yeah?”

“Did my brother tell you to do this for me?”

A sigh left his lips. He should have expected this. “He didn’t ask me to do this in particular, no. All he did was ask me to give you another chance. The rest…” He nervously scratched the back of his neck. “Well the rest was all me.”

“I see.” Hanzo was in the middle of typing something else when he started to cough and Jesse started to panic. It sounded less like a cough and more like a death rattle, which frightened him even more.

“Shit, uh, I’ll go get Angie.” He started to stand up, but Hanzo grabbed his arm and pulled him back down, dropping the communicator to his lap and signaling to Jesse that he was okay, despite the red he could see trickling between the fingers of the hand held over his mouth.

Hanzo took a few deep breaths and Jesse was relieved to see that the cough had passed without turning into a full-fledged attack. Once it was over, Hanzo picked his communicator back up, wiping his blood-speckled hand on his pants with a grimace.

“I know you do not love me, but I cannot tell you how much this means to me, Jesse. Every time I think I cannot possibly like you more, you seem to take it upon yourself to prove me wrong.”

Jesse’s heart couldn’t help but speed up at the words and he was about to reply when he saw Hanzo’s eyebrows furrow and his hands typing one more thing.

“I love you.”

Jesse couldn’t help but let out a little gasp. He knew Hanzo loved him. That was why he was dying. But Hanzo had never told him so directly before. He had never said those three words and something about it stole Jesse’s breath.

Hanzo looked satisfied, like he had finally gotten something off of his chest, while Jesse fished around for something, _anything_, to say.

He finally settled on pulling Hanzo closer and whispering, “You can’t die on me, alright? I’ve barely gotten to know you. So you gotta hold on for as long as you can, you hear me? Don’t seem fair to take away any chance of a second date.”

Jesse could feel Hanzo’s grin more than he could see it as Hanzo pressed his face into his shoulder and stayed there, taking comfort in Jesse’s warmth and his company.

They stayed that way for a long time. Jesse lost track of how long they had been sitting, wrapped around each other. All he knew was that the candles were beginning to die out from burning for so long and Hanzo was softly snoring from where he had fallen asleep tucked into Jesse’s side. It was almost painfully cute, the way Hanzo would shift occasionally only to bring himself closer to him. But more than that, Hanzo looked peaceful. He looked less like he was in constant agony, and if Jesse really tried, he could imagine Hanzo wasn’t dying and that they truly were on a date with promises of a second one.

Gently, he reached his hand out and tucked a strand of Hanzo’s hair behind his ear. It was then that Jesse realized that maybe there was still enough time left for him to fall in love after all. Hanzo just had to stay alive for a little while longer.

Not wanting to wake him, Jesse carefully maneuvered himself to be in a position where he could scoop Hanzo up in his arms and carry him back to the medbay.

The man in his arms continued to sleep, his face laying against Jesse’s chest, his hand loosely gripping onto his shirt.

Jesse smiled down at him as he continued to slowly make his way back to Hanzo’s bed. “Just hang on for me, darlin’. I won’t let you die.”

-

The next day, after Jesse had completed his training and other tasks for the day, he decided to go back to the medbay to talk more with Hanzo. He was stopped, however, when he heard a heated argument coming from a door just ahead of him.

It seemed like whoever was arguing had been at it for quite a while. Their voices were raised and they kept trying to talk over one another. Jesse decided to stop and listen in, curiosity taking over.

“Genji, please calm down!”

Angela’s voice cut through the two who were arguing, silencing them for only a moment before Genji spoke up again, voice still raised.

“Take me off of this mission, Morrison!”

“We are short-staffed as it is and we need everyone available for this.”

The other voice obviously belonged to their commander and he seemed just as frustrated as Genji was.

“This is a 15-day mission! My brother does not even have 7!”

Jesse’s heart felt like it dropped to his stomach. He didn’t realize how little time Hanzo had left.

“I’ll see what I can do, Genji.” Jack sighed and Jesse heard footsteps approaching the door, so he ducked behind a corner just in time for the commander to walk out.

After Jack walked away, Jesse was going to follow suit and make his way to the medbay as planned when the continuation of voices stopped him once again.

“Genji, have you thought more about what I told you?”

“No. I do not want to think about it.” Genji’s voice wavered and there was the unmistakable sound of sniffling. Genji was crying.

“You must. He is running out of time.”

“I know that! Why can you not just ask him?”

Angela sighed. “I can, but he is unable to speak, soon he will be unable to type, and he is losing touch with more and more of himself. Towards the end, I fear he may be unable to answer for himself and you are his next of kin.”

“Just… ask him and do whatever he wants. If he wants you to make him pass peacefully, then do it. If he wants to be awake and cough his stupid lungs out, then so be it. I don’t care anymore. At this point, I just want it all over with.” Genji sounded so defeated that it made tears well up in Jesse’s eyes. He could almost feel his friend’s pain and it made his chest ache.

He had to leave. He couldn’t listen to any more talk of Hanzo dying. Hanzo wasn’t going to die. He couldn’t die.

Not when Jesse loved him.

The thought came to him with quite a large amount of shock. It was so loud and sudden that it was impossible to miss. The thought of losing Hanzo broke his heart in a way he never thought possible. He didn’t want Hanzo to be out of his life, he wanted him _in_ his life. He wanted him by his side to laugh with, to talk to, to hold, maybe one day to kiss. He loved Hanzo.

He had to tell him. He had to tell him _now_ and fix everything.

Finally emerging from his hiding spot, he started to run toward the medbay. He knew Hanzo wouldn’t die in the time it took him to get to him, but a small part of his brain kept repeating _but what if he did?_

By the time he finally got to the medbay, he had managed to work himself up to a panic attack.

“Hanzo!” He shouted, pushing the doors open and running to the man’s bed.

But the bed was empty.

Jesse’s panic skyrocketed until he forced himself to take deep breaths and think rationally. Hanzo was probably in the bathroom or maybe on the roof or possibly in his old room.

Starting his search at the medbay’s bathroom, he gently knocked on the closed door and waited for a response. When none came, he tried again. Still no answer. He tried the door and found it unlocked and the room on the other side dark and empty. So he wasn’t in the bathroom.

Heading up to the roof to check that next, Jesse tried not to let himself think too much about what could have happened and what if Hanzo was just gone. But when he also found the roof and Hanzo’s bedroom devoid of the man he was looking for, his worry returned.

He ran back to the room where he heard Angela and Genji speaking and was relieved to find them still there.

“Either of you two-” he gasped out, panting from having run all around the base. “Know where Hanzo is?”

Both of them stared at him with looks of great concern.

“Yes, he was sleeping in his hospital bed last I checked,” Angela said tentatively. “Why? Is something the matter?”

Jesse groaned. Everything he was trying not to think about, everything about the worst case scenario, was creeping back into his mind. “Yeah, somethin’ is the matter. He’s not there!”

“Jesse, this is not funny,” Genji said, his breathing visibly picking up. He sounded angry, like he wanted anything other than to believe his friend.

“It’s not a joke! I swear! I was just there an’ his bed is empty.”

“Did you check the-“ Angela tried to offer an alternate explanation but was quickly shot down by Jesse.

“Yes! I checked the bathroom, an’ his old room, an’ the roof. I can’t find him anywhere!”

There was a beat of stillness where no one quite knew what to do, but then that stillness was broken by Genji and Angela sprinting as fast as they could toward the medbay, leaving Jesse behind to try and catch up. He still hadn’t caught his breath, however, and ended up being much slower than the other two.

When he finally caught up to them, Angela was on her comms with someone, shouting for answers while Genji was frantically searching the empty bed.

“Get me the camera footage NOW!”

“Where the fuck could he be! He should not even be able to walk without help!”

The scene was frantic and panicked. Jesse didn’t know what to do so he ended up walking over to Genji to see if he could help. Before he got there, however, Genji suddenly froze, which in turn made Jesse freeze.

“Uh… You alright?”

Genji didn’t respond. He reached down and gingerly picked something up from between the tangled sheets he had been tossing around.

“Hey, did you find somethin’?” Jesse looked over Genji’s shoulder and found a folded piece of paper with Japanese characters written on it. “Is that from Hanzo? What does it say?”

“It’s my name,” Genji said softly. He turned to Jesse with tears in his eyes. “I cannot open it. I am too afraid. What if- what if-“

“Shh, hey now, I know yer scared, but we won’t stand a chance of findin’ him if you don’t open that. What if it says where he went?”

Genji nodded. “You’re right.”

He unfolded the piece of paper and began to read it. It didn’t take too long for the tears in his eyes to begin to roll down his face and for him to start shaking. It escalated to the point where the paper tore from Genji’s grip.

“That fucking bastard. If he is not dead yet, I am going to kill him.” His voice was high-pitched with barely contained rage and fear.

“What? Why? What does it say?” Jesse took the note out of Genji’s hands so he wouldn’t completely destroy it.

“He left. He didn’t want me to watch him die so he fucking left.”

Jesse looked down at the note, wishing he could understand what it said.

Angela crossed the room to be where the other two men were in about 5 steps. “Winston has the security footage. I’m going to go look at it and try and determine where he could have gone. My fear is that the psychological effects of the hanahaki have made him confused and delusional. We need to find him immediately before he hurts himself or others.”

“We’re comin’ with you. If we’re gonna find him before it’s too late, we need all the help we can get.” Jesse also figured that Genji needed someplace to redirect his nervous energy before he snapped. “C’mon, Gen, let’s go.”

Jesse and Angela began to run back toward the door, but Genji stayed where he was.

“Goddammit, do you want to find your brother or not?” Jesse was getting frustrated with his friend. He whipped around when he got to the door to glare at him. “I can save him, but we have to find him first, don’t you get it? Let’s go!”

“I know where he went.” Genji’s voice sounded flat and distant, like he was dissociating from all the stress.

“What?” Jesse ran back over to him. He had been doing a lot of running that day and knew it was only just the beginning of what he would have to do. “Did the letter say where he was goin’?”

“No, but my brother is not as hard to read as he thinks he is. And I am sure the hanahaki’s influence did not help with that either.”

“Well, spit it out, man! We’re runnin’ outta time!”

“The letter was short, but he managed to reference the time he tried to kill me three times. He went to Hanamura one last time. I think he wants to die where I did.”

Jesse groaned. “That dramatic motherfucker. As soon as I tell him I love him, I’m gonna kill him.”

“Get in line,” Genji scoffed before he really processed what Jesse said. “Wait, you love him?” He turned to Jesse with wide eyes.

“Yeah, that’s why we gotta find him. Now _let’s go_.” Jesse was tired of wasting time. They didn’t have much of it left and every single second that passed was crucial.

They both raced to where Angela and Winston had already started combing through security footage, Genji’s fear having been sated slightly by the new hope Jesse had given him.

As suspected, the security footage revealed no helpful clues as to where Hanzo could have gone, but Genji’s theory of him having gone to Hanamura was so strong that they decided that searching there was their only option.

Overwatch couldn’t afford to send more than the three of them on the search party which aggravated Angela, but they had no time to argue. The size of their team at least allowed them to take the smallest, fasted jet in the Overwatch arsenal.

“Are you sure you know how to fly this thing?” Jesse gripped his armrest until the knuckles on his flesh hand turned white. He was properly strapped into his seat, but with how Angela was taking off, it didn’t feel adequate enough.

“Of course,” she tried to reassure them, but even her voice was trembling slightly with fear. “I may not be as good as Lena, but I can still fly a jet. Here we go!”

The jet finally made its way out of the hanger and into the sky. The speed of the jet did nothing to ease the nervous tension in the air.

_Not fast enough. Not fast enough. _Jesse bounced his leg as he couldn’t help but think that over and over again.

“When we get there, we will have to take out a few Shimada Clan members,” Genji instructed as they neared their destination. “The dojo in the main castle is where he will be and that is always heavily guarded. It is highly possible that he could not even get in.”

“Would that be good news for us or bad news?”

“Depends on if he was caught.”

The situation was getting more and more complicated and Jesse hated it all. There was also the foreboding thought of ‘what if we were wrong and he isn’t in Hanamura’ looming above them, but none of them allowed themselves to become consumed by that thought.

“Then let’s hope he wasn’t caught. Anythin’ else we should know?”

“Yes, we are only three people. The Shimada Clan is many. The only way we are going to be able to get in is if we exercise stealth over anything else. I also know many alternate entrances we could use, but they are treacherous to reach.”

“We trust you, Genji,” Angela said from where she was sitting in the pilot’s chair. “Just lead us to where we need to be.”

-

They landed the jet a few miles away from the castle to remain unseen, despite their time constraint. Angela had argued that they wouldn’t do Hanzo much good if they were caught before they could even save him, to which Jesse reluctantly agreed.

Wanting to get to the castle as fast as they could, Jesse managed to hotwire a hovercycle for him and Angela to ride while Genji ran along the rooftops, using his cybernetic enhancements to keep up.

The hovercycle silently weaved in and out of traffic as Jesse sped down the streets, Angela clinging on for dear life. He knew he was being reckless, but he didn’t really care in that moment.

When they finally reached the castle, Jesse slid to a stop as Genji dropped down beside them.

“What happened here?” Angela asked as all three stared at the wreckage in front of them.

The large gate had been pushed open, allowing them to see bodies scattered across the courtyard beyond it, blood painting the stone flooring.

“I think Hanzo did.” Genji bent down and picked up what looked like half of one of Hanzo’s arrows. “But how…”

“Doesn’t matter. We gotta keep going,” Jesse urged, leaping off the hovercycle and charging into the castle’s complex, Genji and Angela close on his heels.

Genji guided them toward the dojo, a mounting sense of hope and anticipation befalling all of them as they realized they were so close to saving Hanzo.

When they stepped into the dojo, however, the feeling shattered like glass.

“He is not here.” Genji sounded so defeated. “I do not understand. Where could he have gone? He… he was here! We saw his arrows in the courtyard. Where did he go?”

Jesse wanted to scream. They had been so close and now they were at a complete loss again. “Goddammit!”

Genji walked up to the large banner hanging on the wall and ran his hand across it. “I thought that maybe… he came here every single year on the anniversary of my death to pay me honor. I thought he would have- wait. He took the sword.”

“What?” Now that Genji mentioned it, there did seem to be a structure that looked very much like an empty sword stand.

“He stole the sword that he used to kill me.”

“Well, what does that mean for us?”

“I wish I knew, but he is not here. We need to split up.” Genji was resolute in his command. “Fan out. He could not have gone far and I do not think he would have left the city. We will find him.”

Angela and Jesse nodded.

“I’ll take the bike and comb the west side of town,” Jesse offered.

“I will search the rest of the castle and the surrounding area since I will be on foot.” Angela fixed her caduceus staff to her back and drew out her pistol, ready for action.

“I will take the east side. Now let’s save my brother’s idiotic ass.”

-

Jesse was better at hiding than he was at finding people. Still, his years in Blackwatch weren’t for nothing. He knew how to keep his eyes and ears open. He couldn’t read Japanese, but Genji taught him how to say enough that he could ask the members of the town if they had seen a man pass through carrying a sword and coughing up rose petals.

The cherry trees that lined the streets and filled the town were in full bloom and would have been beautiful if not for the fact that the light blanket of soft pink petals they left in the streets hindered Jesse’s ability to see the red ones he was looking for.

Occasionally, a flash of red would catch his eye and he would chase after it. He was desperate and followed any leads he could find, even though they always led to nowhere. If the townsfolk had truly seen Hanzo, too much time had passed and he had moved on from where they were directing Jesse.

He searched for what felt like hours. His desperation was slowly beginning to morph into resignation, preparing himself for the worst.

“Anything?” He said into his comms.

“Nothing yet,” Genji responded.

Angela took longer to respond, probably finishing up a conversation with someone, trying to gather information. “Someone saw him head toward the river.”

“I already checked the river. He must have moved on.” Jesse sighed. He wasn’t ready to give up just yet, but it was beginning to look like a lost cause.

“Just keep looking,” Genji urged.

Jesse pressed on. He looked for another hour and ended up on the outskirts of Hanamura, nothing more than rolling hills, cherry tree orchards, and a few sparse buildings. It seemed unlikely that Hanzo had travelled this far out from the castle.

He was going to turn around to do another sweep of his section of the city when he noticed a figure on the top of one of the hills in the distance. He squinted, trying to determine if he recognized who it was. The likelihood of the figure being Hanzo was very low and if Jesse ventured out to investigate, he would waste a lot of time. He realized that he was also wasting time by sitting there and doing nothing while he decided whether or not to go back into the city.

The logical choice would have been to return to the city, but something in his gut was telling him to go after the figure. So he did.

With no buildings to get in his way and no pedestrians to dodge, Jesse flew across the grass that separated the road and the hill he was heading towards. Again, he had to thank his Blackwatch years for training his reflexes up enough to allow him to navigate through the orchard, barely avoiding crashing into the maze of trunks and branches of blossoms.

When he emerged on the other side and was finally able to see who was on top of the hill, he let out a cry of relief.

“I found him!”

He gunned it up the hill as Genji and Angela bombarded him with a chorus of questions, asking him to confirm his find, how he had managed to find him, and where he had found him.

“West, just outside of town. Get the jet, I’ll send you my location.”

As soon as he had started to travel in Hanzo’s direction, he began to notice an alarming amount of red petals being tossed about in the wind.

When he reached the top, he came to a screeching halt and threw himself off of the hovercycle, sprinting toward Hanzo.

He was kneeling in front of what looked like a young cherry tree, the sword he had stolen laying across his lap. To his right, a cane laid on top of a bow and quiver of arrows, all three looking like they had been haphazardly tossed aside. The grass around Hanzo contained blotches that were shiny and red with blood that he must have been coughing up for a while now since it also trailed behind him like a path, showing how Hanzo had made his way up the hill. He was also still wearing Jesse’s serape.

Upon getting closer, Jesse saw that the red fabric was wet with a darker shade of red in many spots, and that Hanzo was swaying, as if struggling to remain upright.

He ran even faster and began shouting Hanzo’s name to try and get his attention. He didn’t seem very cognizant of what was happening around him, but he still twitched at the sound of Jesse’s voice, as if, despite everything, the hanahaki still reacted to his presence.

_Damn fool,_ he thought to himself. _He shouldn’t have exerted so much energy doing some dramatic ass bullshit._

He threw himself down next to Hanzo and wasted no time in gathering him into his arms.

“Hey, baby,” he said, his words wavering with emotion. “I’m here now, it’s okay, you’re gonna be okay. I love you. Ya hear that? I love you, Hanzo Shimada. I told you I wasn’t gonna let you die.”

Hanzo could barely hold his eyes open, but he seemed to recognize something about what was happening because the corners of his mouth lifted into a small smile and he raised a hand up toward Jesse.

Jesse took the hand and brought it to his mouth, kissing it and pulling Hanzo closer to his chest. “You’re gonna be okay, it’s gonna be okay,” he kept repeating, more for himself than for Hanzo. “Angie and Genji are on their way and we’re gonna get you home and get you well. I’ve got about five more date ideas in my head and I’m gonna take you on every single one of ‘em, I promise. I love you, Hanzo. I love you.”

He cradled him as they sat there, waiting for the jet to come and pick them up. He did his best to try to keep Hanzo awake, but it was difficult with how little energy Hanzo had left.

“We looked all over for you,” he explained, trying to say literally anything to gain Hanzo’s focus. “We thought you would be in the dojo. I wonder why you would come to a place like this.”

For the first time since he had gotten there, Jesse actually looked at the cherry tree. He was no tree expert, but it didn’t look any older than about a decade. He wondered what significance this tree held that Hanzo would pick this place to die, and also why he had bothered to steal the sword from Shimada castle.

Then something clicked. 10 years ago. That was when Genji was taken to Overwatch to be brought back from the brink of death.

Hanzo must have planted the tree in Genji’s honor, returning to take care of it when he could.

He had come back to use his final breath to atone for his sins one more time.

Jesse suddenly, painfully remembered every single harsh word he had ever said to Hanzo about what he had done. He also remembered how Hanzo had fallen in love with him despite it all, and it had almost killed him.

“Hey,” he said gently, moving Hanzo’s sweat-slick hair out of his face. “I promise, from now on, I’m gonna help you forgive yourself, alright? You know Genji already does, now it’s your turn. I’m gonna love you forever and we’re gonna work together to help you heal both inside an’ out. We’re partners now. So sorry, but you’re stuck with me. Just stay awake. They’re almost here.”

He could see the jet looming toward them and couldn’t help but laugh in a moment of hysterical relief, looking down at Hanzo and smiling brightly. “We’re gonna be okay.”

-

And they were. Better than okay, even. They were as brilliant as the stars. Together from this life far into the next.

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to [follow me](https://savethebees-writing.tumblr.com/) for updates and such


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